Fantasy
by BlueSuedeShoes
Summary: Dean has an interesting encounter with Zatanna.
1. Chapter 1

--1--

Dean slammed the shot glass down on the bar.

"Bad night?" asked a female voice. Dean grimaced. Yeah, he'd come here looking to pick someone up, but he was starting to rethink that. Not that female company was unappreciated or anything, but...he shook his head.

"Yeah," he said, looking up. Then he blinked in surprise. The girl, who was gorgeous was wearing a tuxedo-style leotard of sorts with fishnet stockings. He whistled. "Nice get-up. Where'd you come from? A birthday party?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Well aren't you the charmer," she teased, grabbing the bar stool next to him. "I don't exactly _do_ birthday parties anymore, but I am a magician. Sort of."

He looked at her warily. "So you walk around wearing that all day?"

She crossed her legs strategically. "What? Don't like the view, big boy?"

Dean took another shot. "No complaints here. Just curious. You kind of stick out." He looked around them at the seedy bar with its shady customers. The brunette in front of him definitely didn't blend in.

She grinned. "Maybe that's the point."

"I'm Dean," he said finally.

"Zatanna," she said, smiling.

He gave her a funny look.

"Family name," she said with a sparkling laugh.

"Bummer. What are you drinking, Za—Zeta—what was it again?"

"Call me Zanna."

"Right. What'll it be, Zanna?"

"I don't drink."

"You're in a _bar_."

"Came here looking for something actually."

"Oh?" He looked at her suspiciously. This chick was getting weirder by the minute.

"There's someone in the area, an old family friend I've been looking for."

"Who's that?"

"John Winchester."

Dean choked. "_What?_"

Zatanna frowned at him. "Do you know him?"

"You might say that," he said, looking at her incredulously.

"Well, I'm not completely sure he's in town. I've just...seen some signs indicating he might be in the area..."

Dean groaned.

"What?"

"John Winchester is dead. Passed away a couple of years ago."

Zatanna's hand went to her mouth. "Oh god." Her eyes blinked back a sudden surge of tears.

"How did you know him?" they asked each other simultaneously.

Zatanna answered first. "He was friends with my father. Used to come around asking for information on...certain things. My father was a sort of specialist on ancient legends and myths, you might say."

Dean nodded. Yeah, that sounded about right. He looked at the girl and wondered how much she knew about what her own father was probably involved with.

"So how did you know him?" Zatanna prompted.

"He was my dad," Dean grumbled.

She looked shocked. "_You're Dean Winchester?_"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yep."

"Where's Sam?" she asked, looking around her expectantly.

He gave her a wry look. "He and I do actually separate once in a while."

She laughed. "Sorry, but if I can't talk to your dad, he's the next best person."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "What do you want with Sammy?"

She searched his eyes. "You are a very protective older brother," she ascertained, leaning back again. "Relax, Fido. I'm not going to hurt him. I just need to talk to him."

"Well maybe I can help you."

"I don't think so."

"Why not?"

She pursed her lips. "Trust me. Sam's the one I need to see. Tell you what, you tell me where your brother is, I'll return the favor."

He raised an eyebrow. "What exactly do you think you can do for me?"

"More than you realize. So what's it going to be?"

"Listen, lady, I'm not telling you where my brother is for some ambiguous favor I don't really need."

"All I want is to talk to him."

"Fine, then I can go with you."

She smiled mischievously, rising from the bar stool. "That will be fine." She turned around and started heading for the door. She glanced over her shoulder to see him still seated at the bar. "Coming?" she asked.

Dean shrugged, pushing away from the bar and dropping cash for his tab. This was going to be an incredibly weird night, he could tell.

Dean shook his head. She'd wanted to talk to Sam because of the psychic thing?

No matter how small a world he felt like he was a part of, it seemed like someone new was always showing up who knew way too much about it. How did all the crazies in this world manage to find each other?

Sam had been more than a little shocked by the woman's appearance. Of course, when she'd given proof of friendship with both Sam and Dean's dad as well as with Missouri, he'd become slightly more trusting.

The girl was sort of a well of information on the subject. She actually started recommending several people for Sam to go and talk to to start getting a harness on the ability.

When they asked why it was she had been looking for John, she became ambiguous. "I was hoping he'd have something I've been looking for, but I won't bother you with that." 

"What?" Dean asked.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it. You two don't have it."

"How do you know?"

"I'd be able to sense it's presence."

"You are one freaky chick."

She only laughed. "Shockingly enough, I get that a lot." She rose from the sofa where she'd been sitting with Sam and walked over to Dean, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "So tell me, Dean, what is it you want? You gave me what I wanted, so I owe you that favor."

Dean shrugged, her eye contact making him nervous.

Sam coughed, excusing himself from the room.

"Forget it," he said, moving away from the wall and dodging her at the same time. "This one's on the house. We'll call you the next time we lose a rabbit in a hat."

She laughed softly. "Men. Always so eager to run away from what you want."

He turned on her. "Now listen, lady. Who said--" he stopped in surprise. She wasn't advancing on him anymore, but when his eyes caught hers again, hers suddenly glowed electric blue. His mouth fell open.

Oh shit.

She smirked and brushed past him. "Have fun, Dean. I hope you enjoy it."

"Hey wait a second!" he chased out the door of the motel and after her. She was gone.

Oh hell no! This was not good.

The next morning Dean woke to an unfamiliar place and an unfamiliar girl.


	2. Chapter 2

--2--

Dean was only partially awake when he felt a hand glide up his chest and a pair of lips following.

"Morning, Stud," said a woman's voice he didn't recognize.

His eyes flew open. There was a very gorgeous, very half-dressed woman lying half on top of him, kissing his neck. "Holy--"

"I thought I'd skip work today, since things have been slow for you," she said into his neck. "What do you think?"

"I—I—" he stuttered, trying to remember what had happened the night before. Visions of a girl in a magician's costume flooded back to him, but this definitely wasn't her, and he had no idea where he was.

"Hmm," the woman said, misinterpreting his stammering, "I thought you'd like it." She started running a hand through his hair, and Dean nearly forgot himself, but the vision of that other girl's eyes turning blue snapped him out of it. He scrambled out of the bed, looking at the girl before him suspiciously.

He looked down. Fantastic. He was in his boxers. "Where am I?" he asked.

The girl looked at him like he was nuts. "My apartment."

"And who are you?" he asked, thinking that was slightly more important than asking where her apartment was.

She gave him an irritated look, dropping her head into the pillow. "Dean," she groaned.

"How do you know my name?"

She looked up at him and rolled her eyes, propping her head on her hand. "Dean, I thought we established that we both think role-playing is weird."

He looked at her incredulously, mouth falling open. _"We what?"_

The girl raised an eyebrow.

"Look, I'm dead serious right now. No games. I don't know where I am."

Her expression shifted from irritation to concern instantly. She got out of bed and crossed the room to put a hand on his forehead. Dean's throat tightened, unable to ignore the scanty lingerie she was wearing. "Are you all right?"

"Don't think so," he said, voice almost cracking. Blue eyes, blue eyes...where had he seen that before?

"What happened last night? You were hunting, weren't you? What did you find?"

Dean stared at her, wide-eyed. "You know about hunting?"

The girl rolled her eyes. "Okay, why don't you tell me what you _do_ remember?"

"I'm Dean Winchester, son of John Winchester and brother to Sam Winchester. I hunt demons and practically live in my Impala."

She nodded. "And last night?"

"I was at a bar..." She frowned. "And I met some girl--" the frown deepened dramatically "--she was wearing some crazy costume and had a weird name. Fontanna or Lana or Zanna or something."

Chloe gasped in recognition. _"Zatanna."_

Dean snapped his fingers. "That's the one. Wait. How do you know her?" he frowned.

The girl backed away from him. "Oh this is not good. I'm going to kill that woman the next time I see her. She's got to stop interfering with people's lives." She was pacing back and forth, muttering to herself more than she was talking to Dean.

He let her ramble to give himself time to think. Blue eyes...A jinn! He swore and the girl looked up.

"What?" she asked cautiously, seeing the horrified look on his face.

He backed away from her. "You're not real," he said slowly. "None of this is. I'm asleep, and I need to wake up five minutes ago because somewhere that freaky chick is feeding off my blood," he told himself firmly.

The girl looked startled. "Dean," she said slowly. "Zatanna is a lot of things, but she's not feeding off your blood."

He shook his head. "Ignore it. Don't listen to it. This is a dream. I've got to wake up." He started searching the room for weapons to 'kill' himself with.

"Dean," the girl said. "This isn't a dream. Zatanna is a magician who grants wishes that don't exactly turn out like we expect."

Dean just backed away further from her, aiming for the door. He fumbled with the knob and nearly fell backwards out of the bedroom as she pursued him.

"Dean, why don't you tell me what you think is going on, okay?" she said cautiously. "I won't go anywhere near you. I promise," she said, stopping in her tracks and raising her hands in the air.

He studied her. Everything felt so real.

"Who are you?" he asked for the second time.

"I'm Chloe Sullivan," she said carefully. "Your girlfriend."

Dean nearly swallowed his tongue. "Girlfriend? Oh yeah. This ain't real."

Chloe gave a frustrated huff. "Dean, please..."

"What do you want me to tell you?"

"Whatever you think is going on."

"That chick--Catherine Zeta Jones or whatever the heck her name was--she was a jinn. None of this is real, and I need to kill myself to wake myself up."

Chloe's eyes widened. "Dean, no!"

"You're not real," he told himself.

"Dean, Zatanna isn't a jinn. She's a magician. She's just as human as you or I, and if you kill yourself, you will definitely not wake up from it."

He shook his head. "I can't believe you."

"Dean, what did you wish for?"

Something occurred to him. "Is my mother alive?"

Chloe looked startled. "Oh, Dean..."

He looked away from her again, deriving from Chloe's voice that she wasn't. That was weird. He'd think that that wish normally took precedent over anything else when it came to jinns. Then again, maybe because he'd already experienced that...he didn't really want it any more.

"What about Sammy?" he said abruptly.

"What about him?"

"He and I—we're friends and whatever, right?"

She nodded slowly. "You and he do everything together."

"We hunt?"

She nodded again, watching nervously as he inched toward the kitchen knives on the counter.

"So nobody we saved can be dead," he muttered to himself.

"Dean," Chloe said anxiously, his hand moving toward the knives and stopping. "Dean, if you kill yourself, it will be for real. Please don't make me--" her voice choked off.

He stopped, frowning. "Make you what?"

She shook her head, tears filling her eyes. "Nothing. Dean, please think. Did you wish you didn't know me?"

"What?" he looked at her like she was crazy.

Tears started spilling forward. "Oh...crap..." he said, forgetting the knives for a second. Girls crying always made him uncomfortable. He went forward to pat her shoulder uncertainly. "Um...look, you seem like a very nice dream girl, but--"

"I'm not a dream, Dean!" she said frustratedly. "Dean, come on. You've got an open mind, right?"

He nodded.

"So consider for a moment that this wasn't a jinn. Think about it, in a perfect world, would you still be hunting? And would I have any idea what you mean when you say 'jinn?' "

He licked his lips, thinking. It was...possible. "Okay," he conceded. "Theoretically, I believe you," he said. She looked up at him hopefully. "She's not a jinn. What is she?"

"I told you, a magician. She grants wishes."

"How do I undo a wish?"

"You have to," she swallowed. "You have to stop wanting whatever it was you wished for."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"

She nodded. "Simple as that."

"How do you know?"

"Zatanna's a friend. She means well, usually, but Clark and I have been on the wrong end of her spells a couple of times now."

"Magic's not real, though."

She rolled her eyes. "Said the man who thought she was a jinn."

"Fair enough." He paused. "What did you and...whatever your friend's name was wish for?"

"I was really jealous of Lois--"

"Who's Lois?"

"My cousin. And I ended up turning into her for a day until I wanted to be myself again."

"But you're definitely not a shapeshifter, right?"

She rolled her eyes. "Clark wished he didn't have his powers."

"Clark is a magician, too?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Never mind. Another time she turned a little kid into a full-fledged comic book superhero...sort of."

"Okay...so all I have to do is stop wanting whatever I wished for?"

She nodded biting her lip. He remembered what she'd said about wishing he didn't know her.

"Hey, look, if it makes you feel any better, I probably wished I _did_ know you."

She gave him a weak smile and turned around to go into her room, shutting the door in his face.

"What are you doing?" he asked through the door.

"Putting some clothes on."

"Oh." He looked down at his boxers. "Um...are there clothes for me in there?"

The door opened and he was hit in the face by a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

"Thanks."


	3. Chapter 3

--3--

Dean was pacing back and forth, now fully clothed, willing himself to want his old life back.

Chloe sat on a stool at the kitchen bar, watching him sardonically.

"It's not working," he announced.

"No shit, Sherlock," she grumbled, then added to him, "It's not usually that easy. You're not even sure what you wished for to begin with, so how can you know you want things to go back to the way they were?" she pointed out.

He grimaced.

"Think, Dean. Do you remember anything about me or even coming to Metropolis? Maybe you wished you'd never come to Metropolis."

He shook his head. "I don't remember anything about this. As far as I remember I've never done more than drive past Metropolis road signs. Wouldn't I remember making a decision not to come here?"

She shrugged. "Probably. Well, what were you thinking about in the bar you were supposedly in last night?"

He thought, lying down on her floor to stare at the ceiling. As it came back to him, he felt distinctly uncomfortable saying out loud what he'd been thinking about the night before.

"I...sort of went there to..."

"Pick up a date?" she supplied shrewdly.

He lifted his head to look at her, eyebrow up again.

She shrugged. "It _is_ how we met."

He sat up. "Seriously?"

She nodded.

"You don't seem like the type that would work on."

Her lips pressed together as though repressing a grin. "I'm not. I turned you down. And then Oliver threatened to beat you to a pulp if you didn't leave me alone."

"Who's Oliver?"

She waved a dismissive hand. "Never mind. He has a serious big brother complex, leave it at that. So that's why you went to the bar," she urged him on.

He thought. "I sort of...changed my mind while I was there," he said sheepishly. "I was about to leave when I ran into Zanna Banna fo-Fanna."

"Zatanna," she corrected.

"Whatever."

She frowned at him. "Why did you change your mind?"

He looked awkwardly away.

Realization dawned on her. "Aw!" she exclaimed.

"Get off it," he said gruffly.

"You wanted a meaningful relationship!" she teased. "Well," she added more soberly, "at least in that particular moment you did."

Dean looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"Oh," she said. "Did I not explain that part? Zatanna's magic is very specific. She only grants what you're wishing for at that particular moment in your life, not what you want in the long run," she finished a little sourly.

He felt his ears grow a little hot. "You do realize I'm not actually being a jackass on purpose, right? This is not my fault."

She just sighed, looking at him expectantly. "Well, it should be an easy fix then, shouldn't it?"

"What?"

"Well, I imagine you will be wanting your freedom back pretty quickly, won't you?"

"Wait, who said--"

"After all, Dean Winchester doesn't like being tied down, does he?"

"Hold on just one--"

"I can't believe this," she said, shaking her head. "You're unbelievable."

"Would you cut that out?" Dean exclaimed in frustration.

"Hey, you're the one who went picking up chicks last night."

"Yeah, but last night I didn't have a girlfriend."

"And this morning you don't want one even though you've got one."

"If that were true, would we be having this conversation?" he asked irritably.

She smiled slightly. "Good point."

He was still wary. "There has to be a downside to this, but I definitely don't think you are it."

She still looked pleased, almost in spite of herself. Chicks.

"Well," she said. "What would be a downside that would matter enough to not want this?"

He thought. "Sammy and I have always hunted and we still hunt, right?"

She nodded. "Yes. I can attest to healing many of your battle wounds personally."

He frowned. "Healing?" That was a weird way to phrase it.

She waved a hand again. "Never mind."

He let it pass. "And Sammy's doing all right, isn't he?"

"As far as I know. He actually met some girl at an art show here that he likes a lot."

Dean fought not to roll his eyes. An art show? Oh brother. Still, sounded like Sammy.

"And...nobody's...I don't know...suffering because we're together, right?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Not as I'm aware. Although a couple of my exes were a little bitter."

He looked sharply at her. "And you don't think you're meant to be with any of them, right? I'm not throwing off some sort of grand scheme, right?"

She scoffed. "Hardly. There's a reason those guys were exes."

"What about some of those other guys you mentioned?"

"Who?"

"The magician guy and the big brother guy."

 "Clark and Oliver?" Chloe laughed. "Clark is dating my cousin, and believe me, that ship sailed a _long_ time ago. As for Oliver...he was never interested in a serious relationship. I don't do friends with benefits."

"Right," he said, running out of possibilities. "What about us?" 

"What about us?"

"Well...we're happy, right? We don't make each other miserable or something?"

She looked at him through narrowed eyes and he felt the sudden desire similar to the impulse to retreat away from enemy lines. "That, apparently, is in question right now."

He swallowed. Poor choice of words. "Sorry. Aside from me, then. You're happy, right? That's a completely reasonable question," he added seeing the look on her face. "I've never been good at relationships. Ever."

She closed her mouth again and shrugged.

"Tell me. You're not going to hurt my feelings or something."

She rolled her eyes. "You're actually a fantastic boyfriend. We don't do the whole mushy, sappy thing, which suits me perfectly, and as far as I can tell, you like it that way, too. I don't mind that you go away all the time because I'm used to it. We have a lot in common. The demon thing doesn't freak me out because I've been through _so_ much weirder than that--"

"_You have?"_

"--and you somehow remember all the important occasions like my birthday and anniversaries and those things, even though I never expect you to. Besides that, you usually make a point of calling at least once a day when you're on a trip, or if you can't, you call as soon as you can. Plus you're easy to please. All it takes to make you genuinely happy is pie," she said sarcastically.

"Dude_," _Dean said, shocked."I'm an_ awesome_ boyfriend."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "You're not a complete screw up anyway."

"You don't understand. Me not being a complete screw up is the equivalent of any one else being above and beyond when it comes to relationships. Ask Sam."

She smirked. "I believe he has said something along those lines."

"So how did you and I get together if you turned me down when we first met?"

"I ran into you again the next day and you asked me out again."

"And you said yes?"

"No, I said no, but you ran into me again two days later and asked me out _again_. I took pity on you." She gave him a mocking smile.

He shrugged. "I'm nothing if not--"

"Persistent," she finished, as though she'd heard him say it a thousand times before.

"What did we do on our first date?" he asked.

"You took me to a horror movie."

"Typical."

"And we both made fun of it the entire way through while normal couples were screaming and making out."

He laughed. No wonders he liked this girl...or...whatever... "How long have we been together?"

"Two years."

He choked. "What?"

"Two years, and every day I wonder whether or not you're going to bolt."

"Yeah," he replied sheepishly. "I could see that being a potential problem."

"You're a coward when it comes to commitment," she said matter of factly, adding before he could protest, "but we have a very low-pressure relationship."

"How do you mean?"

She shrugged again. "I don't know. I told you; you remember the birthdays and stuff, but even if you didn't make a fuss it wouldn't really matter that much. It's not about big gestures for me. Just the little things, like you remembering what my favorite flower is, or you spending several months secretly carving protection symbols around my apartment and on my jewelry and thinking I wouldn't notice. I never tell you you have to call when you're away or expect you to. You just do because you know it makes me worry less. And you don't worry about the fact that I work in such close quarters with so many men because you trust me."

"Wait what?" he asked.

She laughed. "Well, I'm sort at the head of a..._team_ that consists predominantly of men, most of whom are single and attractive. But you actually get along with most of them now. They're all like brothers to me, anyway. Or children, sometimes."

"What do you mean, I get along with them 'now?' "

She smiled deviously. "Well, you didn't initially. They never like new men in my life―usually with good reason―and you were a bit jealous in the beginning. But then you guys got to know each other and you all cooled off and put the rulers away."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Uh huh."

"That's how you looked at me the first time I tried to explain my job to you," she said, giggling a bit.

"So two years, huh?" he said finally.

"Mmhmm."

He whistled.

"Seeing any downsides yet?" she asked, obviously making a painstaking effort to sound light.

He shook his head. "Nope."

She looked relieved. "That's nice."

"That's suspicious," he corrected.

"Good to know you still think the same way," she said sarcastically.

"What would your life be like without me?" he asked.

She didn't answer right away. "I don't know," she said. "The same, mostly. Same job, same friends. Just a little lonelier."

He looked down. He had a feeling he should be trying a lot harder to undo this whole situation, and his instincts were _demanding_ he do something, but he couldn't make himself want it. This Chloe girl was incredibly attractive, and their relationship sounded...too good to be true.

Probably because it was. He sighed.

"I have a question," he said suddenly, finally getting up from the floor. "Two, actually."

"What's that?" she asked, getting herself a glass of water.

"One: do you have a beer?"

"It's not even noon, Dean."

"Doesn't matter. Is there beer in this apartment and can I have one?"

She smiled in amusement and pulled a beer out of the fridge for him. She tossed it to him and he caught it.

"Thank God. Okay, two: these...spells or whatever, you said they usually don't turn out like you'd expect. There's got to be a downside here or some reason this whole thing is going to backfire and blow up in my face, right?"

Chloe looked at him carefully. "I guess it usually works that way, but in the experience I've had, the wishes were things we didn't really want...just what we wanted in the moment. Do you think you don't really want this and you were just thinking about it in the moment?"

He looked at her warily, not wanting her to burst into tears again.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm a big girl, Dean."

"I honestly don't know," he said finally. "I didn't even fully realize that's what I was thinking about last night."

She sighed. "Right, well, I should go to work."

He frowned. "I thought you cancelled work."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "That was when I thought I was going to be spending the day with my boyfriend, not with Dean from the Twilight Zone."

He looked at her apologetically. "Sorry?" he said hopefully.

She shook her head. "Forget it. I've been on the wrong end of Zatanna dust too many times to hold it against you."

"A favor?" he asked

She smiled at him with just a hint of sarcasm, leaning on the counter to look at him. "Anything," she sighed ruefully.

"Don't go?"

She looked surprised.

"Dude," Dean went off embarrassedly, "I don't know where the hell I am. You leave and next thing I know I'm attacked by...I don't know...flesh-eating zombies or something."

She laughed. "I love that that's how your brain works." She shook her head. "Fine, you've convinced me. I'll stay here and protect you from the flesh-eating zombies." She pressed her lips together in that way that apparently meant she was holding back a laugh.


	4. Chapter 4

--4--

Dean knew he shouldn't be letting it happen, but every minute that passed found him more and more attracted to this Chloe girl. He knew it was a bad idea, and there was part of him that was still convinced she wasn't real. He knew that "wishes" of any variety always ended with bad news when they were granted, regardless of whether they were granted by jinn or crazy girls in fishnets.

And yet, there he sat, on the couch of her apartment, listening to her tell him two years worth of stories about all of his screw-ups...and a few of the things he'd done right.

"But why did you say yes the third time I asked?" he insisted yet again, still unclear on that part.

Chloe shook her head. "I don't know. To get you off my back?" she teased.

He frowned.

"Fine," she sighed. "I thought you were attractive from the get-go, and I just figured the fact that we kept randomly bumping into each other might be a sign or something, so why not let you have a shot? Besides the second and third time you asked me out were much more polite and sincere than the first time when you were in a bar, slightly tipsy, and I was on a mission and had no time for you."

He shook his head, still not believing his own luck...if that was what it was. He felt like the rest of the world had been implanted with memories that didn't really exist.

"And taking you to a horror movie actually worked?" he asked incredulously.

She laughed, sitting down with two sandwiches on plates. She handed one to him and started eating her own.

He stared at her.

She looked up mid bite. "What?"

"You just made me a sandwich."

"You do eat, you know. I assume that hasn't changed. And you've been so freaked out we missed breakfast and lunch. Probably for the first time in your entire life," she added humorously.

He nodded and took a bite. "Oh dear God," he said, mouth full.

She laughed. "Good?"

He nodded, eyes closed.

"This is weird," she sighed.

He opened his eyes to look at her.

"Well, I'm wondering how much the Zatanna stuff is affecting me. Like, maybe nothing I remember really happened. Or if you un-wish this whole thing, does that mean my life goes back to normal with a parallel universe version of you, or do I forget everything involving you completely?"

He felt a pang of guilt. He had no idea. He was still wondering whether or not she existed in his old life and he just hadn't met her, or if she was completely the conjuring of some hex-thing courtesy of Ms. Fishnets.

"You said she turned you into your cousin, right?" he asked.

She nodded.

"What happened to your cousin?"

"Nothing," she recalled. "She was out of town. I just ended up looking exactly like her until I didn't want it anymore. I went to her job and her boyfriend, my best friend, couldn't even tell the difference."

"So technically, it didn't affect anyone but you..." he said slowly.

She nodded hopefully. "True."

He shrugged. Then he got curious. "So...what are the expectations with this whole thing?"

She looked confused.

"I mean, apparently we've been together for two years. Am I supposed to―I don't know―propose soon or something?"

She turned bright red. "We haven't actually talked about that yet."

"Oh," he said, embarrassed. "Right."

Pause.

"Would you say yes?"

She coughed. "What?"

"I mean, if I actually were behaving normally and tomorrow I proposed to you, would you say yes?"

She studied him. "If you were acting normally and you remembered me?" she clarified.

He nodded.

"Probably. I don't know. Like I said, we haven't really talked about it."

"But you want me to," he persisted.

She gave him a sharp look. "Maybe."

"Do you think I'm going to?"

"I haven't got the slightest idea."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Don't sport with my intelligence."

"I think you've been thinking about it but you're scared, and even after two years, you're still not convinced that someone can handle being with someone with a life like yours."

"How _do_ you do that?" Dean voiced the question he'd most wanted to know all day.

She smiled. "I guess there's no harm explaining it to you again. You're just going to get all confused like you did the first time, though," she warned.

He shrugged. "Try me."

"I told you I head up a team for a living?"

"Uh huh," he took a bite of his sandwich.

"It's a team of superheroes. Most of which have superhuman powers of some variety."

He choked, looking at her to make sure she was serious.

She grinned. "And long before I took on that job, I dealt with so many inexplicable things: aliens, humans morphed by radioactive meteorites, meta-humans, homicidal maniacs...the list goes on. The thing is, I'd seen my fair share of weird things, so by the time we made it to month three and you dropped the demon bomb on me, I'd already worked out my fair share of what you do on my own, and I was completely unsurprised."

"It doesn't bother you at all?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Well, I mean, to some extent, of course it does. Just like the mutants and homicidal maniacs bother me. But the thing is, I've gotten used to knowing about things the average human just has nightmares about, so this didn't really change my life much...except that I pay more attention to superstitions and old wives' tales than I used to."

"You are not real," he said after a long pause, shaking his head and putting down the sandwich. "No way is any of this real."

She sighed, getting up from the couch. "Why? Because you think it's impossible that you could find anyone in this world who could relate to you as much as I do?"

He stared at her, feeling like she'd just read his mind.

Chloe folded her arms. "That's what you said on our six month anniversary."

Dean threw his head back to rest on the back of the couch. "This is bizarre."

"You're telling me," she said sarcastically.

The phone rang and she answered it. "Oh, hi, Ollie."


	5. Chapter 5

--5--

He watched her chat on the phone, curious about what she was like around other people.

"No, no, I'm fine. I left you a message. No, I'm not sick." She stopped to listen. "No, it's Dean. He's not feeling well." She paused, and then her expression changed. "You know what? Actually, Ollie, that's not entirely true. Dean's fine...sort of. At least, he's healthy. He got on the wrong end of one of Zatanna's little favors and--" Whoever was on the other end cut her short, and Dean could hear the elevated volume of her friend's voice. "I'm not really sure what she did. Here's what I'm wondering: can you track her down?"

Dean was surprised. She had people who could do that?

Oh, right. Superheroes. That was definitely a foreign concept for him.

"Yeah, I know she's just going to say the same thing she always says, but it might help, seeing as we don't know what he wished for." Another pause. "Yes I know it's absurd. What's wrong with him?" She bit her lip, eyes darting to Dean. "He doesn't know who I am."

The shouting on the other end was so loud he actually understood one sentence.

"WHAT THE HELL?"

Dean had a bad feeling about this.

"No, Oliver, I don't think he wished he didn't know me. At least, I hope that's not what happened. No, you're not allowed to kill him until we know for sure what happened, then I'll let you know." Dean would have been worried if she hadn't been grinning. She winked at him. "Look, just find Zatanna if you can. If nothing else, I want to give her a piece of my mind."

The guy on the other end appeared to agree and then turn the conversation in a different direction because the next thing Dean knew, Chloe seemed to have forgotten he was in the room. Leaning over her computer with the phone carefully cradled between her shoulder and cheek, she became completely absorbed in what she was doing.

He looked around the room. There were photos of them. Not all over creation or anything. A wallet sized one was on the fridge. He had his arm around her in it and she was laughing. One was propped against the wall underneath her calendar and next to her coffee maker. He liked it. She wasn't wearing any makeup and it looked like he had tackled her, pinning her down to take the photo. There was a picture frame on the end table with a photo of them all dressed up for something. He picked it up. God only knew what would induce him to wear a tux. She looked stunning though, all jazzed up like she was in a strappy red dress. He glanced over his shoulder at her. She was still thoroughly lost in the computer monitor. He wondered what she was doing.

"Okay," she said. "The firewall is down." He nearly dropped the picture frame. "That looks like the last of them. You're free to peruse the ground plans, Mr. Queen," she said, and there was no missing the slight note of pride in her voice. She hung up.

"What exactly do you do for a living again?" Dean asked and she jumped. He was standing right behind her, staring at the computer screen.

"I told you. I--"

"Run a league of heroes. Right. What exactly does that entail?"

She smirked, turning around. He was startled to realize that she was completely at ease in such close proximity to him, whereas it was totally new to him. "Well, a lot of things."

"Like illegal things?" he quirked a brow.

She gave a short huff of breath. "Well, honestly, yes at times. But usually for people's own good. I gave those ground plans to Ollie because they're mixing illegal drugs in a covert lab. He's bringing the team in to shut the operation down."

"And this is normal for you? Like, standard procedure?" he asked, thinking this was crazy, and coming from him, that meant a lot.

She nodded her head, recognizing the tone in his voice with a bit of amusement. "More or less."

"Wait," he said suddenly. "How on earth did you get this job? I mean...you don't have some sort of superpowers or something do you?" he stepped back from her, looking her over as though expecting her to start flying or something equally astonishing.

She laughed. "Well...technically, I sort of have powers, but that's not how I got the job. I've been friends with one of these guys since high school, when he was first discovering he had superhuman abilities, and then through him I met the others. They come to me because I'm sort of their root to the real world most of the time. I'm organized, good at taking charge, and the best computer hacker you'll ever meet in your life. Plus I make a pretty figurehead to put on the stamps," she joked.

He gave her a bewildered look.

"You know, you keep staring at me like I'm a loon. May I remind you that you're the one whose dedicated his life to hunting down demons, ghosts, and other things that go bump in the night?"

He wasn't listening. "Can we back up to the part where you said you 'sort of' have powers?"

The smile on her face faded slightly. "Right. That."

"_Yeah_. That."

She looked away from him, as though it were something she was uncomfortable with. "Well, I mentioned those alien meteor rocks? The radioactive ones?"

He said nothing, which she took as consent to continue.

"Well, I've sort of had more exposure to them than the average person and they infected my DNA structure. I can..._heal_ people."

"What?"

"Well, it's a little complicated."

"Explain it."

"Say you get a paper cut," she said, standing up and walking over to him, "on your finger," she grabbed his hand. "I touch you and focus really hard," she said, "and that paper cut heals instantly."

He studied her carefully. She'd stopped talking, but she also sounded like she'd cut a story in half. "But?" he prompted.

She sighed, dropping his hand. "But I get the paper cut instead. With something as small as that, it goes away almost instantly."

"_But?" _he repeated.

"But if it's something dramatic, fatal, say, well we're not exactly sure whether or not I'm going to recover 'the next time' I try to heal something like that. Last time I was dead for eighteen hours. I've woken up in a morgue before." She shuddered convulsively. "Not a lot of fun, let me tell you."

A few things clicked into place. "So when I said I was going to kill myself earlier, that's why you said--"

"Please don't make me," she supplied. "Yeah. That's why. I'm not really a fan of dying."

"Why would you do that for me?" he asked, forgetting that he was the one who didn't know her. She, apparently, had known him for years.

She turned bright red and glanced up to see what time it is. "I should call Oliver back to check how things are going."

"Infiltrating the secret lab?" Dean clarified, sounding like an idiot to himself.

She laughed. "Hardly. Right now they're just planning it out. They wouldn't dare go in there without me on headset. Normally I'd be helping at this point, too, but...given the current circumstances..." she trailed off, shooting him an awkward look.

Just as she reached for her cell phone it rang. She answered it and when she heard the voice at the other end she nearly imploded.

Dean backed away.

"Zatanna I'm going to murder you! MURDER YOU! Do you understand? What did you do to my boyfriend?"


	6. Chapter 6

--6--

Dean snatched the phone from Chloe's hand.

"Hey, Fishnets," he said angrily. "Would you mind explaining why I woke up in a strange city with a strange female--no offense--" he added to Chloe, covering the speaker for a second, "and she claims to have been my girlfriend for two years?"

"Well hello, Dean. It's nice to hear from you again, too. Tell Chloe she's a peach and I'm sorry she's mixed up in the magic again. It's really not my fault. How was I supposed to know she was the answer to your wish?"

"No, I won't tell her that. You tell me how to fix this mess."

"Well, as I'm sure she's told you, the spell breaks when you stop wanting it. So my recommendation would be to stop being attracted to Chloe."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah. That's gonna happen."

"Well what's the problem, then?" she asked curiously. "Everybody's happy as far as I can see in this situation. Even Chloe for once."

He glowered. "I'll tell you what the problem is," he growled. "It's--it's--" he stopped. Oh right. He hadn't figured out what the problem was yet.

He heard that familiar, sparkling laugh on the other end again. "I imagine when you can finish that sentence, handsome, then the spell will break. For now, though, why not just enjoy it? Seems like a waste of a perfectly good wish to be running around _looking_ for problems."

He started to argue but she cut him short.

"Why don't you go kiss that gorgeous girlfriend of yours instead of haranguing me, huh?'

"You--you--" he seethed.

"Meddlesome, convoluted female?" she suggested humorously.

"That and a few other things," he seethed.

She laughed again. He was beginning to hate that laugh. It was innocent, of course, but he felt like it was mocking him. "Go make out with your girlfriend, Dean," she said authoritatively before hanging up.

He stared at the phone in disbelief.

Chloe sat down on a barstool. "Well?" she said, expectantly. "What did my favorite magician have to say?"

"Exactly what you said she would," Dean growled, tossing her the phone. "That I had to stop wanting you to make this go away. That and that I should sit back and enjoy it. Damn, interfering female." He shook his head.

Chloe sighed.

He looked at her, not liking the sound of it. "What?" he demanded, still cooling down from yelling at Zatanna.

"Well doesn't she sort of have a point? Why not just sit back and enjoy it?"

"Because it's weird! That's why!" he raged. "This is bizarre! I don't even know you!" he practically yelled.

Chloe's eyes welled up again.

Damn it.

"Right," she said, trying to mask the hurt in her voice. "Well, the boys won't need me tonight. I made them promise to wait until tomorrow on this one. So I'm just going to--" her voice caught as she stood up "--go turn in. I'm a little exhausted really."

Dean looked at her miserably. Excellent. He'd made her cry again. Well done. "Hey," he said apologetically. "Listen--"

"Don't, Dean," she interrupted a hand in the air to stop him. "It's not your fault. Just...I don't know. You can sleep on the couch or something. Won't be the first time."

And it probably wouldn't be the last, he figured, watching her shut the door to her room behind her.

Well this was a fine mess.

He wanted to go in after her, but it still felt weird. He hadn't made that up. Part of him wished he could just pretend he suddenly remembered everything to make that blasted girl cheer up. He wondered what she was like when she wasn't dealing with an amnesiac boyfriend. Probably really amazing, he thought bitterly.

He flopped backwards onto the couch with a sigh of frustration. This was stupid. He shouldn't have to feel guilty about upsetting her. He hadn't done anything.

 Of course, he had a feeling it was the situation that was upsetting her more than he was. He couldn't blame her. He'd be upset if it were the other way around. After all, she put two years into this relationship just to have him wake up one day and not even know who she was.

He wondered if it would go on like this forever. He couldn't make himself not want this because honestly, he couldn't imagine a better life than this. Everything was perfect...or as perfect as he could ever hope his life to be. She was amazing. Sammy was still his best friend. He still hunted. No one had died because of him. His life was exactly what it had been but with a girl in it.

An amazing, not of this world girl.

He rubbed his face in vexation. This was so stupid! He groaned.

The only reasons he could think of to stop wanting this was that right now she was miserable, and she wouldn't stop being miserable unless he went back to 'normal,' which apparently wasn't going to happen. Or of course the obvious: that he'd missed out on two years of fantastic memories with that girl.

Yeah. That was probably the bigger reason. Of course, the idea of the perfect relationship falling neatly into his lap was incredible, and he shouldn't think twice about it. He should grab it and run, but he couldn't help but think he was missing out on something huge like this. He wanted to remember asking her out and their first date and her birthdays and where they were in those photos she had of them. He wanted to actually be an active participant in whatever the hell it took to get them to the point they were supposedly at right now.

He brooded over the injustice of that aspect of the situation as he fell asleep.

* * *

Dean woke up the next morning with an exaggerated moan.

"Chloe?" he moaned into his pillow. "Shut off that damn alarm."

"Who the heck is Chloe?" he heard his brother's voice ask.


	7. Chapter 7

--7--

Dean shot up in bed. Yes, he was in his bed. In the motel. His brother was in the room. He looked at Sammy, wild-eyed. "Did you just say you don't know who Chloe is?"

Sam nodded, eyebrows raised. "That some girl you met last night?'

Dean ignored the question. "Who's Zatanna?" he tested Sam.

"That magician girl you brought here last night."

Dean got out of bed. He was still wearing the clothes he'd worn to the bar. "It didn't happen...wait," he stopped. "Did it?"

He wasn't entirely sure whether or not he'd imagined it or dreamed it or somehow undone the whole mess.

"Dean," Sam said cautiously. "Dean, what are you talking about?"

"That girl...she did something. I don't know what. Granted a wish. I don't know but I woke up and I'd had a girlfriend for two years and her name was Chloe and she was perfect in every possible way and she could heal paper cuts and she made me a sandwich. It was crazy. You weren't there but we were still doing the same thing we do now, so she's not a jinn. But I must have stopped wanting it because now I'm here and you're here and why would I stop wanting it?" He stopped to breathe.

Sam looked at him warily. "Dean, I think you need to go back to bed. You're talking like a lunatic. Why don't we skip town tomorrow? We're in no hurry."

Dean opened his mouth, intending to try to explain everything again, but he stopped himself. No matter what he said, it was going to sound like he belonged in a padded room from Sam's angle. he gave up and dropped back onto the bed.

"You're right," he said. "I think I just had a really weird dream."

"So what happened with you and Zatanna last night?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. "I don't know. She just told me she owed me a favor if I was ever in a jam or something. Gave me her number."

"Right," Sam said, getting back in bed himself now that they'd decided not to leave.

* * *

That night Dean went back to the same bar, but Sam came with him. They'd come with the intention of letting off a little steam. Sam seemed to think Dean was sulking. He probably was. He couldn't help but think he'd let something incredible slip through his fingers. She'd been so perfect!

Dean nearly fell off his chair when he recognized a woman's voice across the room.

"Okay, Oliver, do me a favor and try to do this my way for once? We'll ask the bartender if they've seen Zatanna before we start threatening people and accidentally getting ourselves involved with the mafia, okay?"

"Dude, you okay?" Sam asked him, helping Dean back into his seat. "You've only had one beer. What's up with you?"

Dean didn't hear him. He was staring across the room at none other than Chloe and a tall blond guy who had to be her friend Oliver. She looked even more beautiful than he remembered.

Chloe had said the first time he asked her out it was in a bar. He got up and walked over to her. He didn't notice as Sam asked what on earth he was doing.

"Hey," Dean said, leaning against the bar casually next to Chloe, who was waiting impatiently for the bar tender to give her his full attention.

Chloe looked at him with an eyebrow up. "Hi."

"Can I get you a drink?"

She gave him a smirk. "No thanks. I'm just here to find someone."

"Doesn't mean you can't drink."

"Yeah, it means I don't have time to have a drink."

"Chloe?" Oliver interrupted. "What did the bar tender say?"

"He's busy," she told him, turning away from Dean.

"Meaning you have time for a drink," Dean pointed out, leaning around her shoulder.

Oliver glared at him. "He bothering you, Sidekick?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Just a bit. Forget it."

"Yeah, Green Bean," Oliver said, noting the guy's olive green sweatshirt. "Forget it."

Oliver's jaw clenched.

"Hey," Chloe said chidingly, turning back to Dean with a disapproving expression. "Back off, cowboy."

"Not unless you let me get you a drink."

"Fine," she said, giving in with an irritated sigh.

Oliver started to protest but she stopped him.

"Oh relax, Ollie. He can buy me all the drinks he wants. Doesn't mean I'll drink any of them."

Dean ordered the same brand of beer she'd given him the previous day, knowing she must like it. She rewarded him with an arched brow, but ignored the drink.

She started asking the bar tender if he'd seen a girl with brown, curly hair, probably dressed in a magician's costume. The bar tender told them he'd seen the girl just last night and that she left with 'some guy.' He didn't appear to recognize Dean.

Chloe turned to leave with Oliver, but Dean caught her elbow.

"Can I get your number?" he asked.

"Sorry," she said, a little impatiently, but sounding like she was making an effort to be nice. "I'm really not interested." She brushed past him.

Dean nodded and let her go, watching as she disappeared, her friend shooting threatening looks at Dean as he held the door for her.

Sam walked over and clapped him on the back. "Strike out? Well, it's your fault for hitting on a girl who clearly has a boyfriend."

Dean smirked. "Not her boyfriend."

Sam looked at him. "How would you know?"

"Call it an instinct."

"Well, anyway, you still struck out," Sam pointed out with a shrug, clearly getting a bit of vindictive pleasure out of it.

Dean just grinned mysteriously. "Yeah, but I'm nothing if not persistent."

* * *

**Author's Comment: All right, this story took on a life of its own because I swear I had every intention of them kissing at some point, or of Oliver or Sam or Zatanna coming to see them at Chloe's apartment, but for whatever reason it just never happened. I don't know. Maybe it was too contrived my way. Especially the kiss thing. But anyway, I'm sort of pleased with how this turned out regardless. Thanks for all the reviews and such!**

**BlueSuedeShoes**


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